Sky Blue, BondMate
by thetravelinglemon
Summary: Bilbo and Thorin's relationship develops during the journey. Spoilers for the end (sorry) though not as depressing as the book. Slightly AU though I try to keep as canon as possible. Bilbo/Thorin. Some inclusion of things that happen in Lord of the Rings
1. Chapter 1

**I've written most of this in pieces, and have to put it together into a cohesive fic now. I hope you like it. As you may notice, I have rather a weakness for Thorin being strong and commanding.**

It all started innocently enough.

Poor Bilbo was sitting by the fire, wrapped in blankets, and shivering. A few of the dwarves offered condolences that he was so cold, but it hardly made a difference.

"I think Mr Baggins will freeze into a block of ice if he doesn't warm up soon – his clothes are hardly made for this climate," commented Thorin to the others, some of whom smiled. "Burglar!"

Bilbo looked round, used to being ordered about by Thorin.

The dwarf shifted a bit to make some space next to him. "Come and get warm under my cloak. A frozen burglar is of no use to anyone."

Bilbo scampered over to the offer of warmth, and when he was settled, Thorin pulled the cloak around them, took out his pipe and began to smoke. With the warmth, and the familiar smell of pipe smoke, and the soft chatter of the other dwarves, it is unsurprising that Bilbo fell asleep rather quickly. Thorin noticed, and tried to resist the smile that tugged at his lips as he noticed that the hobbit was sleeping peacefully and no longer shivering.

Bilbo did not expect to be invited to share Thorin's cloak again, so it came as a surprise when he was asked the next few nights, and more after that. (Well I say _asked_, more _commanded_.) It seemed that, as long as it remained cold, Thorin was willing to make room to keep the hobbit warm. Each night, Bilbo would wait to be called (he didn't want to impose or assume), usually simply by the word 'hobbit' or 'burglar', before he went over and was wrapped up in the warmth of the sky blue cloak.

The heat meant that Bilbo slept well, and each morning, Bilbo woke refreshed (apart from the occasional crick in his neck). The hobbit found it hard to tell whether Thorin was happier of a morning, now that they spent the night together (in the most innocent of ways possible, of course), or more grumpy. He never quite decided.

Balin watched Bilbo and Thorin every night; saw the gratitude and admiration that Bilbo didn't try to hide, and the grudging affection that Thorin did try, and managed to hide from all the others. But this kind of thing rarely slipped by Balin. He said nothing, though mused upon the cultural implications for Bilbo; while dwarves had no problem with two men in a relationship, hobbits thought it was queer and improper.

None of the other dwarves complained or thought it was strange; if Thorin was willing to keep their burglar from freezing to death without asking them to take turns, well they didn't mind – none of them wanted to share their cloaks, despite the hobbit's small size.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much everyone for favouriting and reviewing and following – I never expected that many people to read it! I hope you all enjoy the coming chapters, and please keep up the reviewing ****.**

...

When they crossed the black river, Thorin was grateful for Bilbo's sharp eyesight and for Fili retrieving the boat. However, he was cursing himself when Bilbo asked who would go first, because the dwarf, without thinking, replied something along the lines of "you and I", which he then had to quickly cover up by naming two others to come with them. Thorin had been trying to push aside his unreasonable desire to keep Bilbo close so he could protect him, but in that moment a thoughtless comment had undone all his hard work. He simply prayed to the gods that no-one had noticed.

Anyone who would have accused Thorin of breathing a sigh of relief when the hobbit had safely disembarked from the boat would have been ridiculed for suggesting such a thing, though it is likely that Thorin would have blushed guiltily while denying it.

..

A few nights later, while Bombur was still dead to the world, the company made camp on the path.

Thorin took the first watch, and the other dwarves quickly dropped off to sleep. Bilbo, however, sat with his back to a tree, thinking, and was startled when Thorin suddenly sat down next to him.

"You should sleep." Thorin said, gruffly.

"I'm thinking." Bilbo looked up, and his eyes met Thorin's. They were blue and piercing, looking straight through the hobbit and making him feel like Thorin could see his very thoughts.

The dwarf slowly leant forward, not breaking eye contact, and Bilbo shivered in anticipation. He could see a worn, handsome face underneath the beard, which roughly tickled his skin before Thorin's lips touched his own.

The kiss was gentle (very gentle, for a dwarf, thought Bilbo) and tentative, a mere brush of lips, before Thorin pulled back. His expression was unfamiliar; it was one of uncertainty and insecurity, as he searched the hobbit's face for some reassurance. Bilbo Baggins smiled, before surprising the dwarf king by leaning forward and rubbing noses with him. Thorin's expression was, of course, one of shock.

"I think I'll sleep now." Bilbo smiled.

Thorin smiled in response and opened his coat for Bilbo to share the warmth. The small hobbit tucked himself in gratefully, and soon fell asleep.

Thorin stayed awake, watching and listening (though sometimes he was watching Bilbo rather than the eyes surrounding their camp) until he woke Dwalin to take his turn as watchman. Then, he proceeded to fall asleep, his head leant back against the tree, and his arm around Bilbo.

It was a long time after before they could do anything like that again, for the next day Bombur woke, and there followed the debacle of the spiders and the wood elves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Even more favourites and reviews and follows! I think I've become ten times more popular since I started writing Hobbit stuff. Here we go anyway. More happens in this chapter **

...

Bilbo and Thorin were unable to sleep together (in the innocent sense of the word) until after they'd left Lake-town; when they set up camp that night, Bilbo wasted no time in climbing into the warmth of Thorin's cloak.

From then on until the end of the journey, Bilbo always slept by Thorin's side, both surrounded by the dwarf's cloak. Sometimes, Thorin would make room and open his cloak in invitation, other times, Bilbo would climb in before Thorin had a chance to make room, meaning that they slept closer together than usual. And there was often a brief good night kiss when they thought no-one was looking.

Their relationship changed in other ways as well; none of the other dwarves failed to notice that the two would often ride together, or share a pipe, or exchange stories.

On the third night, they had set up camp by a small copse, and all were asleep except for Kili, who was on watch, and Bilbo, who had just left the fireside to make his way to Thorin, who was also awake and watching the night sky.

When Bilbo climbed into the warmth of Thorin's cloak, he glanced up to see the dwarf gazing down at him with an entirely new expression. Thorin drew Bilbo close, and spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving the hobbit's.

"Bilbo, I...don't refuse me...I want you to be mine; I want to make you mine...tonight." He paused to draw a ragged breath. "There is a bed of ferns in the copse which I found when I explored it earlier – we could go there..." He trailed off, and Bilbo realised what was new about Thorin; his eyes were full of passion, and an overwhelming lust, all for little Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.

The dwarf king glanced up at Kili, who appeared to be watching them and smiling, though his eyes swept over them as if he'd seen right through them. He coughed, then went to wake Balin for his turn as watchman. The older dwarf took up a position by a tree and sat down, huddled in his cloak for warmth.

Thorin glanced back at Bilbo in, what could only be described as, desperation.

"Bilbo, you can't know how I want you, how I...care for you. My dear Bilbo." Thorin kissed the top of Bilbo's head, before glancing back at Baling and continuing to speak. "If you'd rather that we were bonded first..."

"Bonded? You mean like marriage? But how can..."

Thorin interrupted. "A bond is actually an engagement – it's like permission to court one another, but, in the past few decades, it's become almost synonymous with marriage. It's serious, and don't just say yes to please me, but..." the dwarf groaned and ran a hand over his face.

"And we can do it now? Would people know?"

"Aye, we can do it now: all that's required is an elder witness. People can know if you want them to, though I think they already suspect. Bonded couples interact differently, but it's common practice to wear a strip of cloth round your wrist, torn from the clothes of your bondmate."

"So they can know or not know as we please?"

"Aye, as you wish it."

Bilbo reached down and tore a strip of cloth from his shirt before offering it to Thorin.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything better."

Thorin smiled. "Had you all the fabrics in Middle Earth, you could not have offered me anything I could want more." Then he tore a strip from his sky-blue hood, and passed both strips to Bilbo, before standing up and making his way to Balin. Bilbo waited, surrounded by the large cloak, with the fur tickling his ears.

The old dwarf was not surprised at all, and witnessed the bonding ceremony (i.e. the swapping and tying of the cloth), before promising to tell the next watchman why they were not asleep with the others.

Then, without further conversation, Thorin picked Bilbo up and carried him into the copse.

The hobbit, who was suddenly very timid, let Thorin lead, and soon began to whimper with need. Every time Thorin revealed another inch of Bilbo's pale skin, he would mutter endearments and praises, some in the common tongue and some in Khuzdul, surprising Bilbo with his tenderness.

Thorin's stamina surprised them both that night, and it was a few hours before they returned to camp, sore but sated.

Nori was taking watch, and simply nodded in acknowledgment when they arrived. Thorin went over to speak with him, before returning to share his cloak with Bilbo. Unlike usual, Thorin held his hobbit close, and Bilbo rested his head on Thorin's chest as they slept.

Thorin was woken a while later, as he had requested the last watch of the night. He nodded his thanks to Oin, before pulling Bilbo into his lap and holding him while he slept. He would wake his newly bonded in time to see the sunrise, but not quite yet.

Some time passed before Bilbo was gently woken. "I thought you might like to see the sunrise."

Bilbo nodded sleepily as Thorin set him on a rock to give him more height. Then, Thorin passed Bilbo a comb and sat down in front of the rock.

"Will you comb and braid my hair for me?"

Bilbo smiled and, recognising it as an intimate gesture, took the comb and nodded.

Thus it was that all the dwarves woke to find Bilbo sitting on a small rock, slowly but skilfully braiding the hair of their leader, who sat at the rock's base. Neither did they miss the strips of cloth on the wrists of the two, nor, when Bilbo stood up, the slight limp in his step.

They were all pleased for their burglar and their king, and made sure to offer congratulations.

Bilbo took his time with the braiding; he enjoyed the sense of closeness it brought, and wanted to make sure he did it well. The thought briefly crossed his mind that he would have many years to practice, and that made him smile.

Fili, Kili and Bofur set up a stream of rather crude teasing throughout the day, which the others did not fail to join in with on occasion. Though it made Thorin gruff and, as his nephews called him 'shouty', he did not mind it half as much as he made out, since he rather enjoyed watching Bilbo blush and hearing him laugh.

...

**This is quite long isn't it? I didn't realise that. Anyway, My favourite chapter is coming up next (favourite because I like how I've written it, not because of the content). Hope you enjoyed this one **** Needless to say, reviews are nice.**

**Oh, and there's a poll on my profile page if people would be kind enough to look at it. Thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**This is my favourite part, not because I like this bit of the story, but because I like how I've done it, not to be big-headed. I hope, my 30-something followers, that you all enjoy this chapter **

...

When Thorin turned on him at the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo was somewhat heartbroken. Thorin swore at him rather inventively, both in Khuzdul and the Common Tongue, before pulling the strip of fabric from his own wrist, and lifting Bilbo to throw him down the side of the mountain onto the rocks.

The hobbit could do nothing but close his eyes and wish for the end – it couldn't be _that_ much more painful than everything he'd experienced so far, could it?

He never found out. But he did find out that a little hobbit can endure an awful lot of pain when rejected.

He left with Gandalf and the elves, all of whom noticed the now broken bond between him and Thorin.

"What will you do now?" questioned Gandalf.

"I'll do what I had always planned to – I'll return to my home at Bag End, and continue my life there."

"But what of Thorin, and all this?" Gandalf gestured towards the Shire, indicating the journey that had been made, and everything that had happened since they'd left.

"Thorin has made his decision, and I shall forget about all this eventually."

Bilbo left with Gandalf later that day; he couldn't bear to linger, and Gandalf neither objected nor questioned the decision to leave so abruptly.

It was while sheltering at Beorn's house that Bilbo heard of the Battle of the Five Armies, and that Thorin Oakenshield was on his deathbed. He heard all this from Beorn himself, who had been at the battle, and had helped carry Thorin to safety, though, it would seem, too late.

Bilbo wept at the loss of a friend and travelling companion, but did his best not to think about their bond. He kept the strip of sky-blue cloth on his wrist and, despite Gandalf's worried looks, refused to take it off.

And so the hobbit returned home that spring, to find his possessions being auctioned off and that he was 'missing, presumed dead'. After getting them all back (all except the silver spoons, that is), he lived in his comfortable hobbit hole for many years, never doing anything unexpected, and almost becoming quite the respected Baggins again.

Occasionally, someone who knew of such things would ask about his dwarven bondmate, or someone who knew nothing of such things would ask about the strip of cloth on his wrist. His simple reply to all enquiries was "my bondmate is dead". As a result, people learned not to speak of it.

..

When his cousin died, poor Bilbo grieved for her and her husband, and felt an affinity to their young son, Frodo. He took the boy in, cared for him, raised him, and proudly watched him grow.

When young Frodo asked what the strip of blue cloth was, Bilbo took the boy on his knee and proceeded to explain.

"It's like a marriage in the dwarf culture."

"You're married to a dwarf?" Frodo's eyes widened.

"Was, my boy, was. He died a long time ago, in events I'll tell you about one day."

"He?"

"Yes, he. Dwarves have no problem with that sort of thing. But don't tell anyone – I never told your mother or anyone else, so hush."

Frodo grinned at that: he liked secrets.

..

After many many years, Bilbo painfully began to write the story of his adventures, starting from the beginning. He wanted to finish in time before his 111th birthday and before he left. When he reached the conclusion, and Thorin's death, poor Bilbo couldn't bear to write the truth of what really happened, so instead he changed things slightly, to make them more conclusive and less painful for himself.

The hobbit slipped a little note in a small piece of parchment into the first page. It read: 'Dear Frodo,_ I am now going on a long holiday to Rivendell. I leave everything to you. My bondmate was Thorin Oakenshield. Yours, Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End._' He signed himself thus for the last time before gathering his things.

Bilbo fully intended to go to the elven city, but that did not mean his journey would end there: he wished to see his old companions in Erebor before he truly settled down in Rivendell.

...

**I wouldn't normally do this, but may I trouble you to take a look at the Oliver King Foundation Petition?**

**Oliver King was a boy at my school and he was in my little sister's class. He was 12 when he died suddenly in a swimming lesson from SADS (sudden adult death syndrome), and his family and others are now working tirelessly to get defibrillators in schools and other public buildings to prevent this from happening to others.**

**We need 100,000 signatures by 10****th**** February 2013. Please Help.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Firstly, apologies to all the lovely people who looked at the petition but couldn't sign it because they weren't UK residents. Thank you for looking all the same.**

**Secondly, we have reached 100,000 signatures – hooray! So we're all very pleased, and thank you to anyone who looked at it or signed. Even if you haven't looked at it yet (and are a UK resident), your support would still be appreciated.**

**Thirdly, an apology; I know I've left this update a bit longer, which I blame on real life and my sudden determination to reach 50 followers for this story. Alas I couldn't quite make 50, and thought you should all be put out of your misery, since I ended the last chapter on a rather depressing note. But then, just before publishing this, I got to 50 followers, so thank you everyone :)**

**Lastly, I hope you all enjoy this chapter – I rather like it, maybe more than the last one.**

...

A few months later, Bilbo reached Rivendell, where he was greeted by Elrond immediately upon arrival.

"Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, Elf-friend, Ring-bearer, and bondmate of King Thorin Oakenshield."

"Thank you, but if it's all the same you to, I'd be grateful if you didn't mention...my bondmate."

"As you wish, master hobbit."

Bilbo spent some time in Rivendell, writing poetry and songs.

After briefly seeing Frodo arrive in the elven city, Bilbo left for the trek to Erebor. Elrond and Lindir watched him leave from Elrond's balcony.

"He does not know yet."

Lindir frowned. "Not at all?"

"No, he has had no word from Erebor since he left."

"Then he will soon find out."

..

Bilbo trekked through the Misty Mountain range (and remained above ground this time, thank you very much), and was given shelter at Beorn's house for just under a week, before moving on.

He was welcomed in Lothlorien by Thranduil, Legolas, and many other elves he recognised from long ago. They gave him their willing hospitality, and Bilbo couldn't help but remember how different it was to when he had last been here.

He spoke to Galadriel before he left, equally entranced by her beauty and her wisdom, and she promised she would aid the newly formed Fellowship, before taking her leave with a knowing smile.

Then, Bilbo was taken by boat to the site of the ruined Laketown, before travelling upwards towards Dale, and then entering Erebor itself.

The suspicious (and young, even for dwarves) guards brought the hobbit through to a side chamber and set a guard on the door. He did not have to wait long before those he knew began to enter; Dwalin, Balin, Gloin, Ori, Bifur. They greeted him with merry songs, exclamations, food and drink, apologising for the absence of the others, and explaining that only by chance had they heard of his arrival.

A guard entered. "The king will see him now."

Bilbo frowned, and Balin muttered a brief explanation about all newcomers traditionally having an audience with the king to ensure their safety as they filed out the room. The hobbit did not catch the glances the other dwarves were giving each other.

The guard led the way out the room and towards the massive hall that Bilbo had only ever seen filled with piles upon piles of gold, a threatening dragon sitting on top. Part of that space was now converted into an audience room, and the rest of it had been converted for various other uses; a banqueting hall, a council chamber, and what looked like some private rooms.

The hobbit approached the throne, on which sat the king. The dwarf's mostly grey hair tumbled about him, unbraided and maybe even unbrushed, though Bilbo couldn't be sure. The arkenstone hung in its rightful place above the throne. Beside said throne, sat two dwarves, one on each side, who Bilbo assumed must be the advisors or heirs, but he did not spare them more than a glance.

Bilbo frowned in thought; this was the first dwarf he'd met whose hair was so unkempt and uncared for. As he looked at the king, his eyes were drawn towards the king's wrist, where he saw tied a strip of black fabric. Bilbo could only assume that this meant a broken bond, and the thought _we have something in common_ flashed through his head before the dwarf began speaking.

"Who is it?" he asked one of the guards.

"A hobbit, your majesty."

Bilbo bowed, and was about to introduce himself in the customary way with his name and offer of service, but he didn't even get past the 'b' of 'Bilbo' before the king interrupted.

"We don't keep hobbits here. What do you want?"

Bilbo frowned and cleared his throat. "I have come seeking friends of old, and request your permission to stay for a time."

"You had better leave, hobbit. We don't have your kind here."

Poor Bilbo was dismayed – he'd come all this distance only to be turned away.

"Can I not stay for a week? My journey has been many months..."

"No. We will give you provisions and send you on your way."

"But..."

"I will not be questioned! Kili and Balin, you will help the hobbit prepare."

Balin nodded, and looked as if he wanted to say something. The dark haired dwarf who sat on the king's left also nodded.

Bilbo frowned. If that was Kili, then that blonde dwarf must be Fili. And if that was Fili, then who in Middle Earth did that make the dwarf who sat on the throne between them?

Dwalin muttered something in Khuzdul.

"HAVE I NOT SAID I WILL NOT BE QUESTIONED?" thundered the king.

At that, Dwalin's patience seemed to snap, and his tempter flared up in its place.

Bilbo jumped slightly as Dwalin's voice thundered back, echoing throughout the chamber.

"Aye, BUT YOU SHOULD BLOODY WELL KNOW BETTER THAN TO SEND AWAY YOUR BONDMATE!"

There followed an extensive string of words on Khuzdul, which, from looking at the faces of the other dwarves, Bilbo guessed was a stream of inventive curses and expressions of anger, as well as maybe one or two insults to the king and his intelligence, or lack of. Balin appeared to add a word in agreement every now and then.

The hobbit and king frowned and stared at each other, before Bilbo quickly turned to Balin.

"But Thorin died! I heard before I left Beorn's house! He's dead! How can this be him?" Bilbo muttered one of the few Khuzdul words he knew from having picked it up on their journey, and all those present were well aware that it was a rather colourful curse.

"He _was _on his deathbed, or so we thought. We tried to get word to you..."

"SILENCE!"

Thorin stood, and crossed the floor between them.

"Bilbo?"

The hobbit lifted his chin and looked into the king's eyes.

"Yes?"

...

**I wasn't going to end this chapter here, but it got long enough and I wanted to post something soon. Hope you liked it, and thank you for reading. Reviews are always welcome and very much appreciated.**

**Oh, and some people have been asking if it was finished at the end of the last chapter. Obviously it wasn't, and this isn't the last chapter either – I'll let you know when it ends by my note at the end, and by changing the status of the story to complete :p but the end is not far off!**


	6. Chapter 6

**It feels good to be publishing chapters again. Why is real life so demanding?**

**Thank you to everyone for all the follows (70 now!) and all the lovely reviews, especially the enthusiasm of ****lythande188****. I don't even know why this story is so popular, because I really don't think it's the best one I've published, but I'm not complaining! **

**Thank you to the guests that reviewed too, and I get annoyed that I can't reply to them, so thought I'd say thank you here **** One thing I thought I'd say in response to the reviews: I think Thorin could still manage to be a good king through his grief, and that, despite letting himself go, he would put the needs and welfare of his people before his grief, deep as it was.**

**Anyway, onwards and upwards!**

...

"_Bilbo?"_

_The hobbit lifted his chin and looked into the king's eyes._

"_Yes?"_

Thorin's eyes widened as he hesitantly reached up to caress Bilbo's face. He took a breath, as if to speak, but then changed his mind, and took Bilbo by the arm to lead him from the room.

"If anyone disturbs us in the next two days for a reason other than imminent death, then his head shall pay the penalty." Thorin called gruffly (though it was obvious he wouldn't actually carry out the threat), as he exited the room with Bilbo in tow, leading the hobbit down a series of corridors to a large and elaborate bedchamber.

Thorin shut the door behind them.

"Bilbo?"

"Yes?"

For a brief moment, the dwarf king's fear showed in his eyes and in his voice.

"I thought you didn't want me...you didn't come back, and I thought...that I'd driven you away by what I did. It would have been no more than I deserved." Thorin spoke steadily, his eye's refusing to leave Bilbo's.

"I thought you were dead – I never heard anything from Erebor after that winter, when I heard you were on your deathbed, and I assumed you'd died."

Thorin muttered something to himself in Khuzdul, before answering Bilbo. "I was foolish, and decided that it was a good time for my dwarven pride to rule my head, and for my head to rule my heart." He sighed. "I knew you knew I was dying, and I told myself that you would have come back if you'd cared for me at all, and that you leaving so suddenly was an indication that you did not wish to hear from me again, so I kept my silence."

"I was afraid to return in case you did not want me, and when I heard of your injuries, I knew I could not reach you in time, and that you would probably not want me near anyway."

Thorin sighed, and began to reach for Bilbo's hand, meaning he was startled when the hobbit instead grabbed his wrist.

Bilbo untied the strip of black cloth from the dwarf's wrist, and ripped a bit from his own shirt to replace it; Bilbo disliked even semblances of mourning when the mourning was unnecessary.

"Do you have a comb?"

..

A few minutes later, Thorin could be found sitting on the floor at the foot of the large bed, with Bilbo perched on the soft mattress behind him, combing and taming the dwarf's grey locks. He rebraided some of the dwarf's hair as well, pleased that he had not forgotten such skills, despite the years that had passed since he had last needed them. Initially they exchanged stories, memories and thoughts, before lapsing into a companionable silence, and they simply enjoyed being together for the first time in so long.

When they'd finished, they divested themselves of their outer garments and climbed into bed.

"I...I understand if you don't want me anymore...I'm not exactly important, or attractive..." stuttered Bilbo.

Thorin frowned. "We've both aged, burglar, and neither of us is the same person we once were, but by no means would that mean I don't want you." The king cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now still your tongue and go to sleep."

Bilbo smiled and did as he was told, the weariness from his journey suddenly taking hold and sending him into a peaceful slumber.

..

Gandalf was pleasantly surprised when he received a message from a young thrush the following afternoon. They had just made the decision to enter Moria, when a young thrush flew to them and sat on Gandalf's shoulder. The bird began to relate Bilbo's story, but of course, only Gandalf could understand. The wizard offered his thanks, before taking the small scroll from the thrush's leg and watching her fly away.

"This is for you, Frodo. From your uncle."

Frodo, frowning, took it. He read it through twice, before smiling and glancing up at Gandalf. The wizard quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, Frodo? Care to tell us the news, or not?"

"My uncle has found his bondmate again – he was not dead after all – and they are together."

Gimli started at the word bondmate. "Bondmate?"

"A dwarf, then," Legolas commented, for the benefit of those who didn't know what a bondmate was.

"Yes," Frodo grinned, looking up from the note, "it is King Thorin himself."

"By the arkenstone, that was something I did not expect!" cried Gimli. "I'm glad of it, though. It means I can talk with the ringbearer some more when" (here, Boromir could be heard snorting at the word 'when') "we return. My father travelled with both of them, you know – back when I was a young lad."

"We can all talk to him when this whole thing is over – we're all invited for a great feast and celebration then, and are to send word when we're on our way."

Frodo's words were greeted with cheers from Merry and Pippin, and smiles from the rest of the Fellowship. Gandalf smiled too, pleased for Bilbo, and pleased that his message had raised everyone's spirits a little.

..

Bilbo awoke the following morning to find the bed empty. He frantically glanced up, and was relieved to see Thorin standing at the foot of the bed, pouring tea from a pot set on the table.

"Good morning Bilbo."

"Morning Thorin." The hobbit smiled, prompting the king to smile too.

"What?"

"Just...everything. I'm in a comfortable bed, having tea poured for me by my bondmate, King Thorin, who looks rather attractive with his new braids."

"You like them then."

"I braided your hair to my liking deliberately, despite my old and clumsy fingers."

Thorin sat on the bed next to Bilbo, passing his tea cup and lifting up the other hand to gently kiss the fingers. The he leant down and nipped sharply at the soft skin on Bilbo's neck, making the hobbit gasp.

"And what was that for?"

"Dwarves are territorial."

Bilbo huffed. "I'm far too old for this sort of thing."

"Hold your tongue, halfling, and stop talking nonsense."

The kiss Thorin then bestowed upon Bilbo was definitely a promise of more.

..

The two spent the whole day in bed together, knowing they would have to face the outside world soon enough.

"I'll have to give a feast for you, you know," murmured Thorin against Bilbo's skin.

Bilbo smiled. "All these tiresome feasts and celebrations."

"Indeed – you know I'd much rather stay here with you."

"And deny everyone the chance to see their king's beautiful new braids? That's too cruel."

Thorin smiled at Bilbo's teasing. "Well then, cruel to them I shall have to be."

"And to me?"

"To you, burglar, I shall have to be very loving," there was a pause, "and very careful you don't steal my arkenstone _again_."

Bilbo tensed, but when he heard Thorin's deep chuckle behind him, he relaxed again, rather pleased that the king was able to joke about the whole business with the arkenstone.

...

**And yes – I have messed up time a bit as regards to when the Fellowship enter Moria. The Moria that Balin and Ori and Oin never went to because I love them too much to let them.**

**I'm not remotely sorry for mucking up Tolkien's timeline.**

**And this story is coming to a close – only one or two chapters more, probably one. Just to warn you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**And now, we come to the last chapter.**

**Sorry it took so long, but life was stupid and it takes a while to type, though Basementfullofbandmembers helped with that issue :)**

**I hope you like it – it's more or less just an epilogue... *throws chapter at you and runs away***

...

The next morning, Bilbo dressed in the clothes provided. They were elaborate and, it would seem, made for a young dwarf rather than a hobbit, but they would do until some could be made that would fit him. They were coloured sky blue, with some hints of deep purple

He inspected himself in the mirror, and Thorin stood behind him.

"The colours of my family."

"I will wear them with pride."

"Good, otherwise I'd have to make you," Thorin teased.

"You wouldn't."

"I'm the king - if I want my consort to wear blue, he must wear blue."

"Oh so it's a command?" Bilbo teased back.

Thorin chuckled and kissed the top of Bilbo's head in response.

They walked towards the banqueting hall together, with Thorin's large hand a comforting pressure against Bilbo's lower back. The guards opened the doors to reveal a large banqueting table, full of a huge variety of meats, breads, cheeses and fruits. Music played from a small group of dwarves in the corner as the king and his bondmate took a seat

Just as they sat down, Thorin took a ring from his pocket and, taking Bilbo's hand, slid it onto his right index finger. Bilbo looked up, questioning.

"It belongs to the bondmate of the king. It's been passed down for centuries," was the gruff reply.

Then Thorin stood up and proclaimed a toast, but Bilbo was barely listening. He glanced round at the dwarves surrounding him, noticing that those he had travelled with all had privileged places near the top of the table. Then he glanced back at his bondmate, noticing the new lines on his face, showing the many years and many worries from when they had been apart. But no more; a joy shone in his eyes that seemed to surpass even the long-ago joy of seeing Erebor again, or that of exploring Smaug's hoard.

It seemed that the toast was to him, because suddenly everyone was staring at him. Bilbo merely smiled and sipped from his cup.

...

Over time, Bilbo learned his way throughout the passages of the mountain, and the learned the names of the members of the council. He became a great favourite with the children, whose names he also learnt, because of the wonderful stories he would tell them; stories about a hobbit, who didn't use to like adventures; stories of the Shire, of elves, goblins, spiders, eagles and of long journeys. He told them of the one ring; how he'd carried it, and how his nephew was taking it to be destroyed amidst the fire of Mordor. And when asked, he would tell the tales all over again, to the children's delight.

He grew his hair and let Thorin persuade him to have it braided – since he was definitely an old hobbit now (no matter what Thorin said), and not at all respectable, he was quite content to have it done in the dwarven fashion.

Fili and Kili had taken it upon themselves to name him 'Uncle Hobbit' or 'Uncle Burglar', depending on how they felt at that precise moment. Bilbo had long given up trying to make them stop. Most of the dwarves called him something along the lines of 'my Lord Consort', except for in private, where Bilbo insisted on his old friends calling him 'Bilbo', or 'Burglar'.

Thorin called him whatever he felt like at the time: 'Hobbit' or 'Burglar' (but never 'Halfling' – Bilbo was half of nothing) were common in informal public settings, but when in private, the endearments ranged from 'love' to Dwarven ones Bilbo could not understand. So he took it up himself to learn some of the dwarf language, at least enough to understand the strange words Thorin would gasp in moments of passion, or murmur in moments of tenderness. Thorin was a good teacher, and often the two would spend their few hours of leisure time in armchairs by the fire, studying Khuzdul.

And thus the two spent the last decades of their life together.

They lived to see Fili, who was now married, father a son and a daughter, events which caused great rejoicing in the kingdom. Fili grew up to be a good diplomat and warrior, and the people of Erebor loved him fiercely. In later years, Fili also became Prince Regent, taking over most of Thorin's duties so that he would have some experience when he ascended the throne, and so that his uncle did not tire himself too much.

They lived to see some of the Company pass on to Mahal's halls: Balin, Oin and Ori set out for Moria (many decades later than they had planned, on Thorin's request) and did not return, and Bifur died of old age. Many also left Erebor: Nori returned once again to his wandering ways, and Dori returned to his business in the Blue Mountains, as did Gloin.

Thorin lived until the age of 294 and died peacefully in his sleep (despite the fact that everyone had expected he'd die in battle someday, much like they expected of Dwalin). Bilbo mourned in the traditional dwarven way – removing all his braids and wearing his long hair loose, as well as tying a black strip of cloth round his wrist. He stayed for the burial, and Fili's coronation, before leaving for the Shire. Though he did not want to leave his friends in Erebor, he knew that that part of his life was over, and he should move on.

Bilbo arrived in the Shire six months later, where he stayed a short time before leaving Middle Earth forever, on a boat bound for the undying lands, with Frodo, Gandalf, Elrond and a few others. As the boat set off, Bilbo smiled softly to think of Thorin waiting for him in Mahal's halls, as he had promised, and Bilbo knew that as a dwarf's bondmate, he would not be denied entry.

He would see Thorin soon.

...

**Yeah I hate epilogues that talk about deaths too, but I have to conclude and I needed to find a way to round things off.**

**Thank you to all the lovely reviewers, favouriters, followers, readers, and any other category you may come into – thank you to all of you **


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